Coming to Stormwind
by Phoenix Down1
Summary: Coming to Stormwind, the story of a craggy old fashioned nightelf forced into a world he cannot begin to understand.
1. Chapter 1

I boarded a ship, and sailed to lands unknown.

We came in ones and twos. Like the human's story of Noah and his Ark. First the traders came, carrying herbs and mooncloth to trade.

Then the explorers came. They carried with them ships and maps and ideas.

Then the diplomats, carrying their treaties and their kind words.

Then our people flocked in groups and clans and armies. We were called upon by the Alliance. At first, my people were reluctant, then, when the times became dire, we were like an opened flood gate to the East.

I came to the Eastern Kingdom months before most of my people. But my purpose was not to serve the Alliance, it was to serve my clan. My family.

When I had come, my people's leaders and the human's leaders were in discussion of working together. My people had just become known to the humans, and we were seen as strange, old, and exotic. To see one of my people walk the streets of Stormwind was like seeing a god. We are tall, towering above all pedestrians and shops. Our clothes and speech are strange. It is like seeing an artist of some far away land, the clothes made of leaves and our skin smelling of spices.

We prowl the night, and carry with us vials glowing blessed water. It reminds us of home.

I had not before been on a wooden steed; a mount sailing with cavalier across the salt waters.

My sister had gone missing around the time the humans approached us to form our friendship.

Diplomats had traveled to the new found city of Darnassus. They came in groups, knots of humans all dressed alike. They wore shining gold metal, and spoke in demanding airs of formality and ownership. They percolated around the city, on horses. They spoke loudly of Alliance and demanding we join. To me it seemed more of a threat, as if they wished to concur. It was insulting.

Witnesses had seen her fraternizing with some of the human diplomats and their servants.

Then, she went missing.

There were some political implications, the relationship between us and the humans had soured some. There was an investigation. Many elves were outraged. The humans had come to seduce us into working with them, and then a young girl of our people went missing.

After some money, some discussion, some political adjustments and compromise, the humans and night elves continued with their budding relationship. And my sister was forgotten by the populace.

I didn't forget.

I could have been seen as stubborn, or old, or reluctant to change, but I never wanted to come to Darnassus in the first place. Many of our people didn't.

But my people, the Druids of the Talon, were determined to assist the humans and fight. My people are a fearless people, feral and wild and excitable. My clan was eager to find peace with the humans as so they could be dumped into the fray of war. They likely forgotten my sister's name hours after she disappeared.

When I approached the elfish officials-- the Sisters of Elune-- to tell them of my outrage in how easily my sister's disappearance was forgotten, I was brushed away. In the interest of peace with the humans, my sister's disappearance was seen as a causality in the war of cultural differences.

My cousin among them. She at the time was a well respected priestess in the Sisters. Even she didn't wish to aid me, stating it was in our people's best interest that we forget as to continue to cultivate peace.

Peace?

How could I find peace in my heart knowing the humans had likely kidnapped my sister. Perhaps killed her. Perhaps worse.


	2. Chapter 2

Coming to Stormwind part two

I do not even recall coming to a decision. It simply was. I was going to find her. There was no question. The only question was-- no one seemed willing to help me, so where do I begin?

The beginning phase of finding my sister began at the scene of the crime. I had questioned everyone I could find. I had searched for clues in regards to her disappearance. I spoke to those whom last saw her.

Nothing was fruitful. Except one woman.

She was an especially elderly woman, a wise woman among our community. She was withered, sucked of life. She looked of crumpled paper. When she woke from the Emerald Dream, it seemed to have nearly immediately weakened her. It made her look her age. While many members of the community were horrified of such blatant showing of our newfound mortality, at the same time, her bark like face was the face of truth we Kaldorei would have to accept.

So the irony was not lost on me when she was the one who could tell me the truth while no one else could. Yes, she had seen my sister. She had seen her aboard a small boat in the night with a group of male humans. She did not think to stop and question them. My sister seemed to be going willingly.

Ships had been darting across the sea between the Kaldorei for years, the majority of them traders and pirates. It was unregulated and the path not well documented. There were no regular commercial ships merely for travelers, not until the Alliance became official.

When I had found out that my sister was no longer in Teldrassil, the question of boarding a ship was going to be difficult.

I stalked around the city shifted into feline form, and searched someone with a ship going East.

There was a trader ship bound for the Stormwind harbor that morning. A small ship, filled with herbs, wine, cloth, and furs. I paid them all the gold I had before they agreed to take me. I am certain they thought I was mad.

We sailed in darkness. The sea was a twisting black ink, and my heart was shaded with coal from the unknown lain out before me.


	3. Chapter 3

Coming to Stormwind (part three)

Were you to ask me why I went to this length to find her, the answer would be complicated.

Why would I risk my life to save my sister?

The easy answer would be, because she is my kin. She is a Hollowind, and a Druid of the Talon. She is one of us. It is the noble thing to do.

But that is not the entire answer.

When we were younger, my sister and I would venture. We hunted and fished together.

Like the other Druids of the Talons, we were hunters and gatherers. We were a team, assuring the success of the days takings. In many ways, it was a more professional relationship. We were not friends-- per say-- however the relationship we had was something beyond friendship. It was an unspoken bond. I trusted her with my life. I knew that she was looking out for me, and I for her.

The Hollowinds are a relatively small group. Young and old, we lived together for centuries in Feralas, knowing the land as we knew ourselves. We moved as the wild game moved, as the winds moved, never in one area for more then a week. And so we lived for many years this way. We took our sleep in the Emerald Dream as all Kaldorei do, honoring Ysera and Cenarius, then returning to the physical realm to live.

We were going to begin the evening with a feast to celebrate the changing of the seasons-- and to wish for bountiful game that year. We were going to dance, and paint our bodies with intricate traditional Kaldorei designs. The women were going to tattoo one another's faces, and touch up the tattoos all ready done on older women. There was going to be dancing, singing, and honoring the goddess Elune at a blessed moonwell.

My sister and I were sent to hunt a wild buck to bring to the feast. We were tracking a monstrous buck, and out excitement was filtering into the community. The buck was a 30 point beast, huge and white.

Deep within me, something felt wrong about killing a deer so magnificent. It felt like we were tracking something much larger and more important then ourselves. Like a god in physical form. My sister had felt the same, however our family had now been expecting us to bring that beast back, and nothing less would have been acceptable.

I had climbed up a jutting rock, the bramble and undergrowth covering me. Below, I saw the animal. When I saw him, he was even larger then I expected. He was taller then two men stacked. His eyes were liquid black orbs, wise and old on either side of his long face. He was so white against the green of Feralas he almost seemed moon touched and glowed.

We were in awe of him.

My sister then elbowed me. She wanted me to take the advantage of surprise and leap down, tackle him, and break his neck. She would take her bow and shoot him from afar. We knew it would take a lot of force to bring him down and not damage him too badly as to have as much useable meat as possible. Looking down below, his antlers disturbed me. As I looked down at the 30 black points… they suddenly seemed to me a tangle of black thorn knives.

But I leapt down with my arms wide to wrap around his great neck.

The beast looked up and began to move it's hulking white body away. It was too slow. It was too large and I was falling too fast for it to successfully escape. It was happening in slow motion. However my sight snapped. Something even larger shot at me and shoved me mid air. My torso was suddenly on a collision course into the bush of black antlers on the buck.

A second great beast was now on top of me, all gray fur and teeth. My body landed into the buck's antlers. I was pinned between them.

I could hear my sister's female cries between the snarling of the bear sized wolf's growl. I was in too much shock and surprise too feel a lot of pain at the time, however aware I was that I should have been feeling pain.

It was a poetic moment to me. A mix of blood, bone, and fear. A tumble and tangle of teeth and fur. Things were fading, and it was happening too slowly. Between the flashes of flesh, I saw my sister looking down at me from the cliff. She was calling the Ancients to heal me. In green blurs of magic, the wounds were closing as quickly as they were being ripped open. I almost cursed her for healing me. I wished to pass out and have it end, one way or another, but her spells kept me awake and conscious.

Eventually after the three of us, the two beats and I, had become a massive knot brawling across the forest floor, it ended. We painted the nearby trees in red.

I had passed out. My sister was weak and could no longer call the gods for aid.

By that time, the rest of the tribe had called for help. Other hunters had heard out cries and ran back to the village. They fought the animals back with fire.

They said that they were not game animals. I had heard that the massive white buck and the wolf were spirit beasts forever in a war with each other. By my sister and I disrupting their fight, we had angered them. My life was payment and my blood a sacrifice to the Will of Nature.

My tribe built the funeral pyre that night. They continued the feast and celebration they originally planned, only this time much bigger and wilder as it had also become a funeral.

I do not know what happened between now and then, only that my body was wrapped in a green shroud and covered in spices and herbs and sweet smelling oils-- as is the tradition for Hollowinds.

Nearby Druids of the Talon families were called to join. The dancing and singing rung all through the forest of Feralas.

My sister had told me she had taken my body after most of the druids were drunk on berry and honey wine, several hours into the night. She said she had taken me to the shores of Feralas, and had stolen a reed canoe. There she said she paddled all night, through the mists and using the stars as her guide.

She said she tore apart the canoe and fashioned a gurney with which to drag me to the dryads.

My sister accounted that she spent hours wandering the wilderness to find the dryad encampment. But it was eventually they whom found her.

A dryad huntress had spotted us. She had smiles coyly, dropped her spear, and dashed off to the others. Her faun hooves not making a sound against the bramble as she sprung one step to the next.

When we had reached the dryad shaman, wise an old woman as large and as great as an oak tree--she had said in her syrup voice that in order to revive me to the state I was before the accident, that my sister would have to give a portion of her years of life to me. My sister did not understand this.

"It is the will of the elements. They are harsh yet just. One can not give life without taking it. It is Balance, it is Nature. It is the Elements. The Water Spirit has said this to me." The shaman healer said.

My sister agreed. The dryads assisted my sister in gathering earth-roots, and pieces of earth, fire, water, and wind. With these things they had cast a spell, taking my sister's life she had not yet lived, and used them to give me my life.

By reviving me, my sister had doomed herself a much shorter life.

With that spell I had lived. The shaman mystic had let forth a cheer. All the dryads leaped around like brown deer-like spirits in jubilation. "It is the will of the gods that he live!"

So it is for this reason, my sister giving her life for mine, that I could not bare her lost.

My search for her lead me across the world.


	4. Chapter 4

Coming to Stormwind (part four)

I hated them.

They were short. But despite their size, they made a lot of noise.

And there were so many of them, like cockroaches, scuttling around, darting this way and that. Like insects. Some were fat. I thought were I to shove them over, they would lay on their backs failing like beetles. They all looked so different, it was a dizzying busy array of colors. Some had brown hair, some dark skinned, some red hair like flames.

They spoke in common so quickly and with slang and phrases I did not know the meaning to. It infuriated me. I knew common, but it was like a different common language I could not begin to follow. "Can you come 'ere a second?"

A second? Why do you wish for me to go to you for such a short amount of time?

"Well ain't that the pot that called the kettle black?"

"Be cool, man."

"I can feel my ears burning!"

"He is so down to earth."

"She passed the buck."

These are just some of the things I had heard and did not fully understand. I could surmise some meanings by the context they were used, however it was still befuddling.

I also did not travel in the Eastern Kingdom in my elvish form, for at the time there were few to no Kaldorei there. I traveled as a feline, and at night, slept in Elwynn forest as a bear.

Although I was still conspicuous as a cat, I was less slow for often in the busy city there were many large and exotic animals. Animals were bought and traded, used as mounts, and were hunter's companions.

I stalked the ally ways I had no money, and so getting around had become difficult, as I could not pay a griffon master or buy food. I hunted at night, however the game in Elwynn was small and I often went hungry- as well as other human criminals were using the forest as their hide out. I often fled for my life from them.

When the hunger pains had become unbearable, I broke down and began to steal. I would stalk into the back of bakeries and butcheries, and blindly grab with my teeth whatever was easiest and quickest. Often the food was foreign and was not to my liking, but it was enough.

I had stolen pies of meat and spiced beers and thick sausages.

It began to be a frequent dance. I favored the foods from a specific butcher who was fat and stupid, but the meats he had cut were fresh and good. His hardworking son was the hunter who would bring in the carcasses for him to carve. I would admit, I was getting lazy in my theft. I was getting complacent and over confident.

The son had caught me stealing while I was in the locker feasting on chunks of boar meat. He was dropping off a deer onto the chopping slab. Carcasses hung on hooks like morbid draperies. He was as stunned as I was. Our eyes met. My yellow cat eyes twin orbs in the darkness, and his stunned, pale and dirty face locked together.

I think we were equally frightened of each other. He hadn't expected to see a panther cat in his meat locker, and I had not expected to get caught. I saw he did not have his hunting weapon with him, so I charged. I did not to kill or even hurt him, just escape.

I pounced on top of him, knocking him to the ground.

But it was too late. I was making a dash for the door but the butcher was barricading my way with a menacing meat cleaver in hand.

In a way, I was glad I was caught. The weeks eating the human foods and animals had left me sick. Being exposed to a new world without a built up immunity will do that. My fur was coming out in patches. I was sick and weak. I was constantly sneezing and vomiting. I probably looked a mess.

After the guards were called, they talked of simply killing me for my own mercy. I clearly looked like a strayed pet belonging to a hunter, and the hunter let loose and no longer cared for.

They also said I was diseased and was better dead for the community.

The female guard felt pity for me, and patted my head.

It was at that moment that my dislike, near hatred, for humans waned. I did not realize that this younger, foolish race was anything but barbarians.

And here this human female was, she pitied me. She did not wish to just butcher me, she wished to feed me and brush my fur before having mercy on my life.

However, I of course would not be killed.

I shifted from my feline form into a man.

It was like a large yawn, or a stretch. My joints ached from being in that form for so long. My voice sore and unused. The humans all fell back and gasped in unison surprise.

The butcher held his knife up and ordered me to stay back, the guards hesitated but held their swords at ready.

"It's … it's a Kaldorei…" By now, the butchers shop was filling with more guards and rubber-necks. We had quite a crowd.

"I…thought they had antlers."

"What is HE doing HERE?"

"Does he speak common?"

The female guard approached me slowly, respectfully. She had a rope. I turned, calmly placing my hands behind me. I let her bind my wrists without a fight. Ducking my head as to not hit it on the doorframe, I let her lead me out into the street.

As citizens approached, none of them ever having seen a night elf before, the guard barked at them all to stay back. I was dangerous, she said. She was taking me to the Stockades, and for none of them to follow.

I did not know what the Stockades were, but I suspected it was some sort of cell. Perhaps there I would be able to explain myself, perhaps I was going to be lead there to rot and die. I did not feel this was the right place to argue, as if things were to get out of hand-- there were much more of them and only one me.

Sure enough, the Stockades was a dank, dark prison. The iron bars caked in rust and mold. It was chilled with the air sucked of hope. Stagnant water lurked in the corners of the dungeon. She shut the door, and locked it with a heavy clunk.

"Speak common?" the female guard asked curtly. I nodded.

"Good. I sent someone to fetch the night elf Ambassador, he will have a word with you. We don't know who you are or what you are doing here." She paused. I saw her eyes move to the corner, she was seeing if anyone else was listening.

The other guards had left. We were alone.

"Your people aren't known to be thieves." she said quietly.

"I am not a thief. I was hungry."

"You are a long way from home, what are you doing in Stormwind?"

I stared at her for a while before answering. I was having difficulty deciphering her intentions. She seemed like she was asking out of compassion, from her tone. However, she was also hardened. She may have been asking to use against me. I wasn't sure. I was hungry, tired, ill, and now locked away.

She had sensed my unease.

"You just seem… out of place, and lost. Here." The woman had dug into the small leather satchel at her side, and pulled out an apple. "You need this more then I do."

I snatched it more eagerly then I intended. And ate it faster then I anticipated, the juices soaking into my beard.

"I was on a quest to find my sister." I told her.

The guard smiled. I sat on my haunches, my back to the wall. I peered at her, yellow eyes casting a glow on the slick wet walls.

"My colleagues and I had thought you strayed from the Ambassador's tent. The first Kaldorei had just arrived in Stormwind days ago."

"I am not with the Ambassador." I said, peering at her from a distance. "And Kaldorei have been trading furs for centuries…" I paused as she stared at me curiously. I had never been stared at before, it made me uneasy. She was fascinated, as if I were an animal at a zoo. "However, officially, we have never set foot to your lands."

"Your accent is beautiful to listen to." She said, then immediately, I felt her embarrassment. I laughed, slightly-- in an attempt to ease her of her embarrassment and no more. I wasn't a person to her. I was a freak curiosity. A novelty.

After finishing the apple my hunger pains were mostly quenched. I had become aware of my surroundings, dampened by being locked in a box. I wanted the open air, the sky. I disliked being so far away from my mother-- the green land and fresh air.

I knew I'd wilt and die like a plant were I to stay here long.

There was a clamor at the door. Guards began to pile into the dungeon, behind them I could see the towering heads of my people. Several women and a man. They were dressed in fine silks and gold. It was a sick fusion of human cloth and Kaldorei designs with human taste of decadence.

The Kaldorei pushed the humans aside, and all of them lined against my cage, and stared at me.

One of the women stared at me, and spoke in the language of my people.

"who are you?" She asked. Her tone was flat. It was not unkind, but it also had no compassion. No emotion could be drawn from her.

"I am Silwyn Hollowind, Druid of the Talon"

"Feralas." She replied. "What are you doing here?"

The man Kaldorei nudged her. She looked at him as he smirked. He was a very tall elf, and unlike most of our people, he was lanky and thin. He did not smell like my people, he smelt like the humans. I could easily smell the reek of milk from his skin.

"Hollowind," he said snidely. "His mother is the sister of the whore who slept with Father Snow. Had those bastard children."

The woman and the man night elves laughed. The other Kaldorei smirked.

I threw a cold look at them. They only smiled at me. I stood, drawing my shoulders as huge as I could, confronting them as a bear would.

"What brings you here, Hollowind? This is far from you savages in south Kalimdor."

"My sister, the humans had kidnapped her in Darnassus…" I took a breath, "You must believe me. I did not come here for any ill purposes."

The woman raised a white brow as if that were the stupidest story she had ever heard. Then she looked at me up and down. My leather kilt was torn. I had lesions and scratches and sores on my skin. I was sour and unwashed. I probably looked like a raving lunatic, but there was humility and sincerity in my eye. I could feel the beat of her thoughts as she bit her lip and considered.

"The humans say you were stealing their food." she stated evenly. "You must be starving." Then, she turned to the humans saying in common, "Release him. He is one of us."


	5. Chapter 5

Coming to Stormwind (part five)

The humans had constructed an area of Stormwind just for the Kaldorei. They had spent hundreds of thousands of gold to construct a moonwell for my people.

It was an incredible gesture to solidify the newfound friendship. It was still fragile at best, but the humans were gracious hosts doing this.

When the Ambassador arrived the humans had turned the area around the moonwell into a mini night elf encampment. Tents of all colors, shapes, and sizes had sprung up like mushrooms. Inside the tents were furs, silks, incense, fruits, and all things of comfort. The humans used all their resources to please us an ensure our place among the Alliance.

I was taken to the tallest, largest tent.

The Ambassador was sitting an elaborately carved chair. A huge mirror with gnarled vines encircled around it reflected her figure. Her hair was long and the same green of sunlight shining through a leaf. It was being combed by a very small human shaped creature. She looked up.

She was very beautiful, there was little doubt. But her full thick lips were set to a hard expression on her face. She wore a long flowing white gown that made it seem she had walked through mist.

The little person stopped combing the Ambassador's hair, and the Ambassador and I stared at one another for some time. She had tattoos all along her eyes, but her face was also decorated with makeup. Her lips were red, her skin pale as ivory.

"You are that. That Druid of the Talon that was found." she stated coldly. She turned, looking suddenly disinterested, or perhaps disappointed by me.

"Silwyn, Ambassador…"

"Lalynthia Mistcrest."

"Ambassador Mistcrest." I greeted her formally.

"They tell me you are searching for your sister."

"Amilya Hollowind. Yes."

She paused as she filed her nail, sitting before her twin in the mirror.

"Never heard of her." She said.

I frowned.

Lalynthia sighed dramatically, putting down her nail file. "Look, Hollowind, you shouldn't be here. It doesn't matter that your sister is missing, your presence, the commotion you caused, it could severely jeopardize the relationship we are trying to deve--"

"What Lalynthia is trying to say…"

I was suddenly jostled aside as the tall thin elf barged into the tent. He was a night elf, but he looked slightly distorted. He was dressed entirely in cotton and human clothing. He reeked of human smells, milk, yeast, cologne. He could have had a muddied elfish blood line, I am not sure. But he was crass and loud. He grinned like a crescent moon.

"Is that your savage kind isn't welcome here and can skunk the deal. We have the humans desperate. We could get a pretty payoff to join them. So scoot, druid. SCAT!"

"Dayton, please. Be kind…" Lalynthia pleaded with a sigh.

"What, be kind to this druid? He's probably not even house broken…"

Lalynthia narrowed her eyes at his comment, "Leave, Dayton--" He paused, smirking. Then she shouted, "GET OUT!" And with that he chucked and left.

"I can't help you, druid." The Ambassador finally said with a frown. She turned to continue to file her nail. "I've asked the councilors in Stormwind to grant you political asylum as so you can not be prosecuted for that butchers shop job, however if you do ANYTHING close to that again, I can't say we can offer the same grace."

"I…I understand, Lady Mistcrest."

We met eyes. I bowed, and left her tent.

As I left the tent, I heard her voice follow me. It was cold and hard as rock.

"I do not want to see you prowling around the city again, druid."

I knew what she meant. She felt that if I were seen again searching for my sister, I could, as the other had said, "skunk" the deal between the humans and the elves. I was needless trouble and trash. Were she not as merciful, she could have killed me to ensure peace in the Alliance.

I once more shifted into my feline form, and stalked out.

The search for my sister seemed to become bewildering. I had no idea the human lands were so large. The city was confusing and complicated. The smells, the sound, … and most of all the -noise- was overwhelming. There was a week in which I simply wandered the city, lost and alone. It felt like a labyrinth and each turn only lead me to a darker, danker area of the city.

I scoured the Stormwind harbor. I watched and waited for any that had night elves upon it. I also listened to the chatter of the sailors. I was listening and waiting for something relevant, something relating to kidnapping, trading, or selling Kaldorei people.

However, nothing came.

Ships were constantly sliding in and out of harbor. Trade ships, ambassadors, travelers, commercial, military ships, all sorts of them were sailing two and fro. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, not even at night.

She could not have simply disappeared.

Weeks passed. Then months. I had not forgotten my sister, not for a moment. But as more time passed, my focus became diverted. At first there was only a handful of Kaldorei in the city. We all knew one another by name.

Then more ships from Kalimdor arrived in droves as the Alliance solidified. Soon it was as if there were as many elves as there were humans.

I had noticed myself change. I was becoming more irritable and angry. The deep seeded frustration from not finding my beloved kin was taking root within me. People and faces passed, they were laughing and carrying on with their lives. However I felt I could not.

Seasons changed. I was becoming complacent. I soon learned to carry on. I made friends within Stormwind. As much as I hated the city I continued to return to it over and over. At first I told myself it was because it was the most likely place to find Amy. But then it became a familiar, safe place to me. I never allowed myself to call it home aloud, however I knew deep down that it was becoming just this. I resented the city.


	6. Chapter 6

Coming to Stormwind (part six)

Then, on a hot lazy afternoon in the summer, something strange happened.

I was sitting at the moonwell in the Stormwind park. I was laying as a cat on the well's stone edge. I was feeling miserable and not truly up to moving. It was blaringly warm and the air was so thick, it was exhausting to even walk. I used my tail to whip away passing flies.

"Hollowind." I heard someone say my name in a stately, stern voice. My cat ears turned to the voice, though I did not move my head. I did not care who it was. I wished to lay and soak in the sun into my fur, and be let alone.

"Hollowind!" the male voice cracked again. "Get up and look at me, it is an order."

I sat up just enough to turn my head. I immediately knew who it was, and was not pleased to see him. I was even less pleased to see he was barking orders. He looked more puffed up and pompous then the last time our paths crossed. He was Lady Mistcrest's right hand man, and looked as if he had been promoted.

When we first met, I had thought he was a strange and unlikely mix of night elf and human, however I had come to learn he was called a high elf. I had known this race of elf to exist, however being from a mostly isolated place, I had never before seen one. I had also come to learn that high elves and humans lived side by side and often mixed, which explained his human smell, swelled attitude, and awful taste in clothing.

"Face me. Face me as a elf, Hollowind, and stand." Dayton lifted his chin and stared at me with an icy blue stare. Reluctantly and relishing in taking my time, I did as I was told.

"Now then." he says formally, standing with his hands tied behind his back. "You, as one of the few Druid of the Talon remaining, are to come to meet the Draenei as an envoy. You and a large number of others are coming to the Exodar with the Lady Mistcrest."

I opened my mouth then closed it. I stared at him for some time. I rubbed my head, sweat from the thick moist air slicked my hand. "What?" I asked. I meant to ask more politely, however the humid air had blurred my brain.

Dayton lowered his head and laughed a little. "I know you may have trouble with common, so let me explain more plainly. You-Are-Coming-With-Us." He motioned to himself. "With-Me-And-Lady-Mistcrest. Lalynthia."

I was growing impatient with him quickly. "I know enough common." I growled. "But who and what are the Draenei, and where is the Exodar?"

Dayton the high elf looked away, flummoxed. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts as he took a small hand fan from his pocket. With a flick of his wrist, it opened. Femininely, he fanned his chubby face as he continued to explain in a curt voice.

"You have no idea what is going on in this world, do you? Doesn't surprise me, really." Dayton then began to examine his nails. "Some druid from the savage, country bumpkin south probably doesn't have the capacity to understand today's current events. Very well…" he sighed, "Let me explain in words even a primitive brute can understand. Since you CLEARLY do not read the papers AND CLEARLY have your head stuck in the moonwell waters to drown out any sort of conversation. Earlier this morning the Exodar crash landed in your people's land, oh, don't give me that look-- Feralas is FINE. Unfortunately." Dayton paused to grin toothily. "The Draenei are a race of people upon the great ship, the Exodar. They were running from the Legion. Seems as if, but this is only rumors so I am not sure if it is true, that blood elves had sabotaged their craft and they wound up crashing into Azaroth. Since they crashed in your neck of the woods, the King thought it would be grand if the lot of you went to meet them. And Lady Mistcrest thought it would be good if we had a group of people that represented the night elves." Dayton then leered at me.

"And that is where you come in, my friend." He sniffed. "I think you ought to clean yourself up a bit, don't you? You are due down at the Harbor at four this evening. This isn't a choice--" he said, interrupting me before I could get a word out. "You HAVE to go. Or else risk Lady Mistcrest's wrath. This isn't an invitation, this is an order."

I bristled. Four o'clock only left me a small amount of time. I was not sure how long this excursion was going to take, but I doubted I would be back in the city any time soon. Still, maybe this was an opportunity I could have to myself.

Maybe some time away and not dwelling on my troubles would clear my head as so I could return anew.

I felt anxious. As I began to pack food, clothing, and some small personal items my mind began to race. What of the Draenei meet us with hostility? What if there were more of them then there were of us, and we were all meeting our deaths?

That was probably it, I thought to myself. Lady Mistcrest never forgave me for almost making bad blood between the humans and elves, and this was her way of finally getting back at me.

…And then I knew how foolish I was as I made my way to the harbor. There had to be at least a hundred elves, perhaps two, gathering onto the ships. There were great feline beats piled high with provisions. I could see huge numbers of them had medical supplies and food. It dawned on me then, we were clearly looking to save these people. They CRASHED into our world. … I knew then that this was a serious incident, and they of course could not be hostile to us, even if they wished to.

I could also see all the pomp and show of politics gathering. I picked Lady Mistcrest, her right hand man, and other ambassadors easily from the crowd. They were riding upon highly decorated feline mounts. Huge tents were being held up by men with poles as so they could be shielded from the sun. Musicians and food tables were set up around them as so the very "important" were also very well comforted.

Soon I and everyone else picked to go gathered on board. We did not set sail until nightfall.


	7. Chapter 7

Coming to Stormwind (part seven)

It was a week's journey. I spent much of the time shape shifted into a bird and sitting on the mast of the sail, away from everyone. I enjoyed the salt and sea breeze. Sometimes I took flight to stretch my wings and I followed the ship, flying across the waters.

We came close to Azuremyst Isles. The horrors of the crash came upon us slow, like a migraine. The first thing was the smell. At first the smells of the Isle were sweet, but slowly it became acrid. It smelt like fire, burning metals, and stale death.

The waters too were changing. At first it was a dazzling blue but as we came closer to the crash the waters were dirty and iron gray.

I had first mistaken it for a mountain made of sparkling rose quartz. It formed along the horizon like a glimpse of purple dawn. The stench in the air was beginning to become thick. I nearly retched.

I saw fires glowing in the distance reflecting off the rose quartz mass. Someone pointed to it, and exclaimed

"There is the Exodar!"

What I had mistaken for a beautiful mountain was the space ship, the Exodar.

Elfish ships were docked all along the coastline. I could see tents had popped up everyplace. There were tables, campsites, and stations set up for food and medical attention. I could see that there were knots of people working to douse the fires.

There was yelling and chaos everywhere. I could see my people were like calm snowflakes in a storm. Knots of female Kaldorei priests dressed in all white robes and hoods were tending to the wounded. Blood splattered their robes like red paint.

I couldn't help myself but stare at the Draenei people when we had gotten close enough. They were larger then I had imagined. Their legs were bent like a dryad, and ended with hooves. Their skin varied in shades of blue. I was uneasy with their presence already.

We landed at last. I began helping by doing much heavy lifting. I was a druid, it was true, but never had a talent for people or for healing. I shifted into a bear and pulled carts of supplies to the campsites where they were needed.

I worked all night and well into the next morning. We all did. We worked in shifts. The fires were put out in the Exodar and the dead were buried. It was an unpleasant, gruesome, and terribly sad.

I wish to not go in more detail about that.

The evening came quickly. Many male druids of my people were working to restore the land around the crash site. However it was not coming easily. The Exodar seemed to have left a strange magical residue on the landscape. As they healed it, it was morphing and becoming twisted. It was as if the alien presence brought with it something we druids had not before seen. The trees, grasses, and fauna were healing but also becoming something else.

The presence of the Exodar, the strange alien people. The morphing landscape. All of it made me shudder and frightened me to my core. I heard the Draenei people speak among themselves in their language. Their language was hard and awkward to listen to. A part of me was sad for them, and an even larger part of me was frightened of them.

As the night drew on, I ate food while watching the others. I watched the Kaldorei people walk like ghosts in their white robes, drifting from injured to injured. Emotionlessly, we fed and bound wounds. It was odd to watch these kind acts of selflessness with such an emotional detachment. I now understand why the humans feel we are hollow.

I built my own fire away from the tents. It was both away from the Draenei people and my own. After a hard days work, I was wanting to be away from the crowds. I was gnawing on a bit of fish when a group of Draenei had approached my fire.

"May we?" A huge, dirty male asked. I hesitated, but then nodded. They circled my fire and sat down.

The Draenei's common was rough, but most of them spoke it. The group that sat by my fire were two males and a female. They sat and spoke their language in a hushed tone. They shared provisions of water and food. None of them said a word to me after they asked to sit.

First, the male that approached me drifted off to sleep. Then the second followed soon after. The female sat on the log awake, staring into the fire.

She looked to be some sort of warrior. She wore metal armor and carried a shield and sword. Though as the night wore on, piece by piece she removed it. Under her armor she wore light cotton, filthy, sweat covered clothing. Her arm seemed wounded as it was wrapped. I could see brown blotches of dried blood on her. Her face seemed dirty from smoke. She looked strong.

Her dark eyes reflected the flames of the fire. The tongues of flame were a blazing orange and licked to the sky. Through her tangled mass of filthy brown hair, twin horns protruded and swept behind her. The end points looked sharp. I could not imagine the thoughts that were ringing inside her head.

I didn't speak to her nor she to me. I had not yet formed a real opinion of the Draenei people. However of the short time I had contact with them I felt a kinship with them. The few Draenei that were uninjured worked hard to aid the others without complaints. I could also relate to how they felt. They were thrown against their will into a strange land with an even stranger people…

I do not recall when I fell asleep, but I must have, as I was hurtled into a dream.

It was a frantic dream. I recall running. I do not recall if I was chasing something, or being chased. All I knew is I had to run madly through the woods, as if I was attempting to race the wind.

The longer I ran, the more the feeling within me lightened. It seemed stupid then to ever had thought I was being chased. I was not the prey, I was the hunter. I was chasing something I badly wanted. I knew that I was so close to catching it. However each step I took, the thing I wanted just flitted out of sight. It vanished under bramble, thorn, and leaf. We ran silently, my prey and I. We were dancing.

I remember feeling the sweat roll down my back. I remember my heart hammering in my chest until it was painful. I remember the cold drinks of air in my lungs. I kept seeing glimpses of white blinking in and out of the trees. It was exhilarating to see my prey so close, yet so far.

My prey and I reached a clearing in the woods. It stopped running, and looked back at me with liquid black eyes. In my dream, I remember speaking to my prey. I remember that, despite it's massive, black, thorn, horns reaching out to the sky from it's head we were equally matched. I remember speaking to my prey without opening my mouth. Yet it understood me perfectly, and I him. I had asked my prey one question. I asked where I might find her.

In my dream, my prey turned it's beautiful, long, white head at me. He looked at me. I saw my reflection in it's ink eyes. It did not reply to me, but began to move away. It did not run. I knew the chase was over. It began to walk away into the darkness and shadow.

Trailing behind my prey were hoof prints. The hoof prints were in ice, as if it were leaving a path of frost. I touched my forehead. As I watched my prey walk away I felt hard bone branching from my head. It was like we were both the prey, both the beasts. We both had antlers. I ran to see my reflection in the glassy ice. My reflection began to fade. It faded away just as…


End file.
